


Fingers.

by inachusorpheus



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Billy Hargrove Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove Is Bad at Feelings, Bottom Billy Hargrove, Cute, Finger Sucking, Fluff, Gay, Gay Billy Hargrove, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Soft Billy Hargrove, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Top Steve Harrington
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 20:50:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20880470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inachusorpheus/pseuds/inachusorpheus
Summary: Billy likes to suck fingers, apparently. And not in a horny kinda way.More of a self indulgent fic.





	Fingers.

Billy wasn't sure what started all this. It began as just two boys taunting each other- Steve always had the best comebacks, which earned the brunette a good bruise or two, but nonetheless, he was good. That awful taunting went on the first semester that Billy attended Hawkins High. 

One night, after a game, in the dead of winter and the silence of a loss, they were left alone in the locker room. Billy was changing, a few bruises across his chest.

Steve Harrington was known to be a blabbermouth. He took a glance, narrowed his eyes, and said, "that can't just be from fights... no one here can hit that hard 'cept you." His voice was quiet, not meant to be heard.

The blonde froze, turned his head, narrowed his eyes right back. "Well it is, Harrington. There ain't nothin' deep here." He changed and put his cologne on, grabbing his clothes and storming out, leaving Steve annoyed and bewildered.

This became a strange cat and mouse game. Each time the two had a second alone, Steve mentioned that he still didn't believe what Billy had said about the scars, making Billy storm out of the room. That reaction alone was a telltale sign- something was up.

It wasn't until Steve actually had to go to the Hargrove house that he found out. It was spring break, and Steve was there to pick up Max. For some reason, she hadn't come when he honked, so he got out, making all the others stay in the car, and went to investigate. He knocked once, twice, thrice- no answer.

There was yelling, an older man's voice. Thumps, crashes, bangs. And, there were grunts Steve could recognize instantly as those belonging to Billy Hargrove. 

He knew he shouldn't have, that it was rude, but he looked in through the window out of curiosity. 

Plain as day, he saw a man, presumably the father, slap Billy across the face, and Billy didn't do anything about it. 

Steve swallowed thickly and, pretending he didn't see anything, banged on the door. "Max!" He called, "come on! The arcade closes soon!"

Silence. Footsteps. Billy opened the door, sporting a fresh shiner. "She's not going tonight, Harrington. Dad..." his Adam's apple bobbed up and down. "She didn't do what she was told. House arrest. So... go."

Steve had had it, sighing and nodding in defeat. "Alright. I'll see you around." He turned and went back to his car, taking the remaining kids to the arcade. His mind tumbled, his eyes glancing to the rear view mirror. 

He chuckled; Max had snuck out and was skateboarding after them, so he slowed down to let her catch up.

Time passed, and after a whole week, Steve finally had a moment alone with Billy, finding him smoking at a gas station after school while he filled up the camaro.

Steve pulled into the lot and parked his beemer, stepping out. He looked at Billy, and Billy glared as the brunette approached him.

"The hell you want, Harrington?" Billy's voice was a low purr, and the shiner was fading, a darker one stringing along his neck.

Steve paused; what did he want? "I... I'm gonna get straight to the point." Pause. "I saw, Billy. I saw what happened last week."

"Yeah?" Billy took a drag and blew it in his face. "And what's that?"

"Your dad."

Billy's face twisted in confusion, anger, and a slight bit of fear. "The hell are you talking about?"

Steve sighed. "Don't play dumb, Hargrove. When I went there for Max, I came to the door. I looked in the window and I saw him hit you. That's where that shiner came from."

The silence that hung between them was awkward and tense. Steve hated it. Billy looked away, tongue swiping over his lips, before saying, "maybe so. Why the fuck do you care?"

"Cause..." Steve sighed. "Cause no one deserves that kinda bullshit. Even dickheads like you."

"Gee, thanks." Billy's voice was laced with sarcasm.

Steve couldn't help but chuckle at his tone. "Just... you ever need to get away from that hell, come to my place. You don't have to say a thing. Don't break anything, and you'll always be welcome."

Billy rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Whatever." He finished pumping the gas and put the nozzle back. "Thanks, I guess."

It's a start.

\---

Billy fucking hurt. It had only been three in the afternoon, and he was already bleeding. He groaned and, once he knew his father had gone out, stumbled his way to his Camaro and drove off to find Steve's house.

He never intended on taking Steve up on this offer, but he needed to get away. He needed to know he was safe somewhere. 

The drive was a blur, as was his stumbling up to the door and banging on it frantically. He didn't dare speak, knowing it would hurt cause of the hit to the jaw.

The door opened and Steve looked out, a shocked expression on his face. "Shit, Hargrove, uh, come on in." He ushered Billy inside and shut the door, taking him to the kitchen and making him sit in a chair. He went to the medicine cabinet for painkillers then got a glass of water, handing both to Billy. "Take these, I'll be right back." And with that, he hurried off like a worried mother.

Billy sighed and took the pills, tiredly leaning against the table. His face was bleeding, his knees were bleeding into his jeans, he just did not look good.

Steve came back and cleaned him up, putting bandages over all the cuts and ice on his face. He had Billy lay on the couch, covering him with a blanket. "Rest," he said. "I'll be in my room. Holler if you need me." He walked away again.

Whine.

Steve paused in his tracks and turned to look at Billy. "Was that-"

Billy was looking up at him with the biggest, saddest eyes imaginable. He whined again. "Don't... don't leave," he mumbled. "I don't... I don't like to be alone."

Steve chuckled and sighed.

"Don't laugh at me!"

"I'm not!" Steve said as he came back over, ruffling his hair and sitting in a wingback chair across from the couch. "There. Better?"

Billy nodded. "Better." It didn't take long for him to fall asleep.

The brunette sat there for hours, switching positions in his chair a million different times. He refused to leave Billy, not wanting him to wake up alone. Finally, at seven, Billy did wake up, a soft sound coming from his throat.

"Oh, is sleeping beauty awake?" That definitely wasn't a lie.

Billy grumbled and huffed. "Shut up, Harrington."

"Make me, Hargrove."

Billy rolled over to face the back of the couch, bundling into a burrito of blankets.

"If you want," Steve began, "you can stay here for the night. There's plenty of guest rooms."

Silence. "Yes, please." He curled up tighter.

And that was probably how it began.

\---

Months passed. Spring became summer. This whole staying over on the weekend thing became a regular thing. Billy and Steve became more comfortable, they began to see the good in one another. 

Some way or another, Billy had wound up in Steve's bed, under Steve... both of them being naked. 

They kissed intimately, bodies against each other like dogs in head. Billy kissed like he was a starved man and Steve's lips were a buffet. Then, Steve pulled away and shoved two of his long, strong fingers into Billy's mouth.

He commanded, "suck."

And Billy did. He sucked gently on the fingers, his eyes fluttering closed and his tongue rubbing up against them. His mind drifted off and suddenly, sex didn't matter. He wanted to lay there and suck on Steve's fingers forever. 

Horribly soon, Steve pulled them out and began to prep him, making Billy whine a bit. "I know," Steve said, "don't worry, this is just prep. You'll get the real thing soon enough, baby."

Their first time was magical, wonderful, but the whole time, all Billy was thinking about was getting done with it and sucking on his fingers again.

They both came, Steve pulling out before doing so so that they didn't catch anything. He stood up, pecking Billy's lips. "I'm gonna get changed, hon." His voice was sweet like honey, and fuck, Billy loved it. 

Billy stood up, panting, and cleaned himself up, pulling on some sweatpants he found before getting under the covers.

Steve chuckled. "Sleeping with me tonight?"

Billy nodded. "Yes. Hurry up."

Steve smiled and rolled his eyes, walking over and crawling in with him, spooning him from the back. They'd done it once before, Steve initiating as he had the feeling that Billy liked to be held. "Better?"

"Almost." Billy grabbed his hand, brought it to his mouth, and began to suck on two of his fingers, slowly closing his eyes. He stopped sucking after a moment, leaving them in to just lay on his tongue. 

Needless to say, Steve was confused as hell. "Uh... okay? Why?" He looked at Billy, finding him cute like this.

Billy shrugged, not speaking, but just snuggled up into him and pulled the blankets up tight. Both his hands held Steve's forearm, not because it was big, but because Billy was clingy. 

Steve wondered if he would stop, watching curiously for over an hour before he realized Billy had fallen asleep like that, with Steve's fingers in his mouth. He sighed and smiled, kissing Billy's head before falling asleep.

This just brought them closer together. Now, when he walked in the door to the Harrington house, he gave Steve a look almost immediately; the look of a sad puppy. Steve knew instantly what he wanted. 

Each time, he'd fix Billy up, giving him some painkillers. Then, he'd lead Billy to the living room and sit him down on the couch, bundle him up un a blanket, then sit with him. He gave Billy his hand, who took it with both of his own and begin sucking on the index and middle finger. 

Steve used the other hand to hold the little blanket burrito close, occasionally kissing the top of his head. In a voice gentler than snow, he'd ask, "do you want to watch television?" Billy would nod or shake his head, becoming almost completely nonverbal once he got bundled up like this. 

Billy loved it like this. He was wanted, loved. He had a safe place where he didn't have to worry about his dad getting mad at him. And, from that day forward, he had a strange infatuation with Steve's fingers, which was only festered by the brunette himself. 

That's not a bad thing at all.


End file.
